maybe you could let me in, somewhere underneath yo
by strangervision
Summary: Natasha finds out just how happy Clint is that she bothers to remember his birthday during downtime. Smut!


**HI UM SO THIS IS NOT WHY-NATASHA-CUT-HER-HAIR FIC BUT IT IS PORN and it is based off the headcanon questions that I just answered (the one that asks who usually remembers things? To which I answered, Clint, but Natasha started to once she realised how happy it made Clint). So this is porn with barely any semblance of a plot, RATED M/R/WHATEVER STANDS FOR SMUT YOUR HELL OUT OF THE EARTH oh god lol. I hope it's actually good. Leave me a message or two to let me know if you liked it/what you didn't like if you didn't like it? : Title from, uh, ****Taking Chances**, I'm sorry, I know that's weird as hell because that's not a porny song at all, geez, but ok. Established relationship in this one maybe that's what prevented the feels from coming through so much. TOTALLY UN-BETA-ED, ALL MISTAKES ARE MY OWN AND MADE IN MY MORTIFICATION.

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**Maybe you could let me in (somewhere underneath your skin)**

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The good thing about downtime was that usually, unless the world was ending, Fury would let them go uncontacted for up to two weeks. The great thing about this one was that Clint's birthday was right smack in the middle of it.A little more than a week into the break, they had ploughed through a good number of movies, some Pixar and then some Disney, just to escape their reality for a bit. They had also gotten the grocery shopping done, and neither of them would ever admit to this but Natasha liked to cook for the two of them.

The kitchen was a large room that had a door on it, although he couldn't imagine why she had insisted on that, but usually she left it open and he'd come in while something sizzled on the stove. He would wrap himself around her and press a kiss into her hair, trying to throw a little it of rosemary or chives into the dish, and she would playfully smack him away.

Today, though, she had closed the door with a warning gaze in her eyes that said _if you dare to come in, I will break a finger and leave you without food for the next two days_, and even if he wasn't too afraid of her wrath, he figured it would be good to give her space if she needed some. They both did, sometimes.

He busied himself going running and re-orienting himself with his bow and arrow. By the time he was done, he walked into the living room to find the kitchen door open and a covered plate of something on the table. He didn't touch that, opting instead to peer into the kitchen and try to find out what was going on. It was clean, and then he registered the sound of running water somewhere in the house.

"Nat?" he called, stepping towards the bedroom, but then the water shut off and then she was walking out of the room in a fluffy white bathrobe that stopped a little above her knees, a drop of water slipping from her hair down her collarbone and into her cleavage and good lord, the things he was thinking now definitely weren't appropriate for the middle of the day.

"Clint," she greeted, and it took him awhile to marvel at the small smile on her face, "I thought you were going to be gone longer."

"Yeah, well," he swallowed, willing himself to look back at her face. She chuckled mirthlessly, gesturing towards a chair at the table. In the space between when she stepped into the kitchen and came out with a lighter, he was busy thinking about what a really good birthday present would be, and then she uncovered the white dish and stuck some candles into the cupcakes and lit them.

He stared, open-mouthed, at her, and wondered how she'd thought to do this when she never allowed herself the sentimentality to remember any important dates. When he looked up at her, her eyes held a glint of something like pride and she reached down, her fingers brushing his jaw as she sang him a birthday song in her soft, mellow, husky voice.

He was still trying to wrap his mind around it when she settled into his lap, an arm around his shoulders, and pressed a soft, firm kiss to his temple.

"Make a wish, Hawkboy," she teased, "Happy birthday,"

"Well, I couldn't think of a better wish since you remember and that's pretty much all I ever – " he was starting to ramble, he knew it, but then he cocked his head to the side slightly and his lips tilted up in a mischevious smirk as he eyed her, "Actually, I have a wish I think you can make come true,"

He leaned forward and blew out the candles, coming back to her and leaning close, pressing his face into the side of her neck so that his nose nuzzled against the divot behind her ear, "Wanna know what it is, baby?"

"I'm letting that go since it's your birthday," she murmured, letting her head fall back so he could press open-mouthed kisses to her throat, "What is it?"

"Wanna make love to you, Tasha," he breathed into her skin, kissing up her jaw. She met his lips with as much desperation as he felt, pressing closer to him even as he tugged on the tie of her robe. When his tongue darted at her lips, she opened her mouth and let his tongue slide across hers, loosing her robe and allowing him to push the lapels off her shoulders, and then she was naked and writhing against him, pulling away to mouth at his neck as he tried to bite at her ear.

"Not gonna try the cupcakes?" she gasped when he licked a hot line up to her jaw and set his teeth in the skin there, and he grinned and said something muffled about how he was sure they tasted great but he really just wanted to taste her right now, which set her off so badly she felt a rush of heat in her belly and pressed down against the thigh between her legs.

"Shit," he rasped then, standing up and supporting her weight with his warm hands against her ass, "Shit, Tasha, I need to taste you, need to – " The loud moan that escaped her was enough for him, and before long they were halfway across the bedroom and then on the bed, never quite breaking apart until he paused to shrug out of his shirt running shorts so that he could press against the length of her, both of them in the nude, skin against heated skin.

"Thought you wanted to put your mouth to better use, Barton," she teased, but it was breathless and heady and Clint couldn't suppress his groan as he shifted to press a kiss into her bikini line, mouthing at her pelvis and brushing his mouth across her. She was wet and warm and smelled like sex and Tasha, and he sucked in a breath, sliding his tongue along the length of her pussy and feeling her corresponding jerk.

He flitted his tongue over her opening and she moaned, arching up, but his hands were on her hips, pressing them down so she was squirming against the sheets, and when he looked up at her, her eyes were screwed shut, her brows furrowed. Pressing a kiss into her hip, he decided to take a gamble, "Tell me what you want, baby," he murmured, and she shuddered, trying to glare at him but failing as he swiped his tongue across her folds, not digging in, not touching her in the places she needed (with a need akin to breathing).

"Want – " she panted, struggling to think straight enough to be coherent, "Want you to kiss my pussy, Clint," and he damn near came in that very instant from listening to her. She noticed the flicker in his expression and the way his brain shut down for a moment, and smirked, still breathless and wiggling in his grip as she said, "I'm so wet for you, Clint, you like that don't you? You like it when I'm a good girl and I need you to eat me – oh, _oh_."

Before she could finish, he'd buried his face back in her thighs, slipping his tongue past his lips to lick at her opening lightly before pushing in, setting a steady pace that mimicked what other parts of his body very much wanted to be doing. He moved a hand to cup her ass and pull her closer to him, the other wandering to her thigh before going inwards. When he pressed his thumb to her clit, the rest of his fingers splayed across the top of her sex, she cried out and ground down against him, muscles squeezing around his tongue. After that, all there was was a blur of heat and wet, wet Natasha, and her breathy whimpers and moans. Clint's stomach clenched fiercely, deep need coiling in his belly at the idea that he could make her come apart under his mouth and that she would so willingly let him.

When she came, she almost screamed his name into the air, going limp on the sheets and shuddering helplessly against him as he licked the length of her. Her fingers clawed in his hair, barely managing to pull him up to her enough before she crushed her lips against his and licked the taste of herself off his tongue, moaning and grinding into him in ways that made his dick jerk hard. He had to pull away and brace himself, hovering above her on his forearms, trying not to come. She grinned at him breathlessly then, reaching down to slide two fingers through her slit and suck at them, all while eyeing him steadily.

When he closed his eyes tight and groaned, she shifted into a crouch beneath him, rubbing back against him and reaching down between her thighs to press his cock into her wet slit so that the head of him rubbed against her clit when she moved. He shuddered then, pressing his face into the crook of her neck and breathing raggedly into the soft skin, slack-jawed and nearly crazed from arousal.

"You want to be in me, Clint?" she purred, slowing her movements just so his eyes would snap open and focus on hers, "Tell me how you want it,"

"Oh geez, Tasha," his words were rushed and damp against her neck, urgent with a kind of desperation she wasn't sure she'd ever seen before, "You're a fucking tease."

His brow was furrowed and he was trying to move against her without completely coming when she moaned and whimpered, "Tell me – need to hear you tell me what you want,"

He started to babble then, a rush of words against her ear, hot and weighted as he held himself on one hand and the other grasped her hip tightly. Then, as suddenly as she had manoeuvred them into this position, he was sliding into her, and she was slick and smooth around him.

"Oh, fuck, Tasha, I can't," he warned, snapping his hips against her so that the tip of his cock dragged against her pleasure spot, "I need to – Need you – "

She keened his name loudly in response, and his hand was slipping back against her, two fingers scissoring fast against her clit, and another climax was building so fast in her belly that she barely had time to tell him not to pull out before they were both coming, shouting and clutching at each other, him at her hips, her at his arms as he kissed the side of her face desperately. He spilled, hot and long, inside her, only fuelling the aftershocks that rocked her body, and she nearly couldn't stop herself from moaning even as they sagged into the bed and she twisted beneath him. Both spent, they pressed tiredly against each other, his fingers playing through her pussy before she slapped his hand away.

"Wow," she breathed, when her breath and brain came back to her, and he agreed with a sleepy chuckle into her hair, pulling her close and tangling his legs with hers, "I could live with that,"

"Best birthday present ever, Tasha," he grinned at her, pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of her mouth before dragging the covers over them and falling asleep with her curled into him.

Later, they would wake for a shower and dinner before curling up softly before the fire with Clint's guitar, and she would maybe tell him she loved him, had always and would always love him, but those were thoughts for later, and for now, Natasha was content to let herself slip into a dreamy haze with her lover warm and sated beside her.


End file.
